


Wide-Eyed Wonder

by XDTAthens



Category: Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Pining, Self-Flagellation, just joined archiveofourown, non-binary abomination, super gay flagellant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 12:25:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13248189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XDTAthens/pseuds/XDTAthens
Summary: The Flagellant was not much a man for words. He was an observer. Whenever he observed the Abomination and saw the wonder in his eyes, he resolved to see that expression more.





	Wide-Eyed Wonder

The Flagellant wasn't generally a man of hope or happiness. Leave the preaching about salvation to the crusaders or the vestals. No, he believed hope was a pointless endeavor and whatever could go wrong eventually would go wrong. It was just the fact of the matter.

So why was he so attached to a stranger? 

The shorter stranger wasn't anything too fancy. They were about 6 feet tall, 10 inches shorter than the Flagellant, but still incredibly tall. Yet the way they moved and the way they presented themself made them seem much smaller. They were lanky and usually a little hunched over. They always shrunk back into their olive colored cloak and their shaky fingers clutched at the sides. Whenever they did that, the Flagellant had the annoying urge to wrap his arms around the stranger and hold them close to the chest, so that nothing may harm them.

The stranger didn't pay much attention to their hair, but the Flagellant sure did. It was beautiful, raven black and off to one side, shaved on the other. He wanted to run his hands through it.

The chains were the most complex thing about the beautiful stranger. Shiny and made of seemingly unbreakable steel, they seemed to be constantly shifting - at least to the Flagellant. Whenever the stranger got back from missions, the chains on their body were rearranged; from across their shoulder, to across their chest, to around their legs, and so forth.

Yes, it was true that perhaps the Flagellant spent too much time studying the stranger and their appearance. Beautiful cheeks and a beautiful nose and kissable lips. A very femme face. Calloused hands he wanted to kiss and hold. A body that he wanted to squeeze and hug so close. The most amazing thing was their wonderful emerald eyes that always shone so brightly. Whenever they went wide-eyed with amusement or wonder or surprise, the Flagellant noticed. And a little piece of his heart ached. Oh how he'd love to be intimate with them. Yet he didn't even know their name. He hadn’t even talked to them!

That changed one fateful Sunday. 

The Flagellant was alone in the abbey. The sound of his whip hitting flesh rang out, as did his pleasured cries. He felt closer to the Light than ever. His sins washed away with every single drop of the crimson liquid. He huffed and panted with every strike. Good. He could feel the self-loathing and the purpose in every hit, every wound created.

Stop thinking of them. Curiosity leads to desire. Desire leads to lust. Lust… cannot be sustained. 

No matter how many times the Flagellant tried to forget about the stranger, he still wanted them. “Mmf!” He grunted as he (literally) struck a nerve. Sweat was dripping down his face. Blood was leaking from his wounds. He dropped the whip. It might be time for a break. When he turned to leave, he came face to face with the very person he had tried so hard to forget. And he was met with their wide-eyed gaze. Beautiful emerald eyes searched the Flagellant’s body. His abs, his chest, his arms. The stranger’s cheeks were tinged red. Finally they broke the silence between them. 

“W-wow…” The stranger’s voice was much softer and much more beautiful than the Flagellant ever could have imagined. They had a very faint Eastern European accent. And the first words they said? ‘Wow.’ As if the Flagellant were a sight to behold, as if the Flagellant was the awe-inspiring one in the room instead of the dirty, bloody, ugly man he knew he was. 

It was the Flagellant’s turn to blush. “You… I did not even hear you enter the abbey. What are… what are you doing here?” He cleared his throat. His own voice was deep. A baritone. A voice that you would expect from the animal-like Flagellant. 

The stranger’s eyes darted up to the Flagellant’s face -- well, his hood. “W-what do y-y-you mean? The a-abbey is open to everyone i-i-is it not?” It appeared the stutter wasn’t just due to nervousness or embarrassment. The Flagellant didn’t care.

“No, I understand. But… how long have you been standing there?” Before he could stop himself, he started to take a step towards the stranger. He got a few feet in before he convinced himself to stop. 

“I-I swear I wasn’t w-w-watching for long. I-I-I only came to f-f-flagellate a-and… you were here.” The stranger looked down shyly as the Flagellant studied them.

Finally, the Flagellant managed to gain control of himself. He wasn’t mad, oh no. He was trying to read the stranger. Maybe he was just being hopeful, but did they stand there so long because they were… checking the Flagellant out? By the Light, his cheeks were burning now. “What is your name, if I may ask?”

The stranger seemed surprised but grateful for the change in topic. “A-abomination. The p-p-people call me the Abomination.”

The Flagellant curled his lip in distaste. “I asked for your name. That’s a title, or a nickname. Not only is it a title, it’s a stupid one. You are the farthest thing from an abomination. What is your name?”

The stranger blinked in surprised before he responded. “Magnus. M-my name is Magnus. A-and they c-c-call me Abomination f-for many different reasons. I answer to he and him. Though the Crusader insists on calling me an it...” Magnus looked down in shame and right then, anger shot through the Flagellant’s veins. Whoever had hurt this beautiful, sweet person would pay. “W-what is your n-n-name?”

The Flagellant could hardly answer him, he was so angry. Emotions easily overcame him. “It is Yosef.” He mumbled.

There was a long and, frankly, uncomfortable silence between them before Magnus finally spoke up. “W-will you h-help me?”

Yosef blinked. “... excuse me?”

“Will y-you help m-me… p-punish myself?” Magnus could hardly meet Yosef’s eyes. Apparently there was something embarrassing about flagellating to him.

Yosef was at a loss for words for the first time in his life.

Magnus frowned, still not meeting the Flagellant’s eyes. “I-I said will you-”

“Yes, yes I heard you.” Yosef swallowed. “Alright. I will… I will help you. But you must promise to tell me if you need me to stop.” He didn’t truly want to do anything to hurt this beautiful man, but he found himself binding Magnus and getting him on his knees before finally starting to pull off the cloak. The body underneath was as lanky as Yosef expected, though Magnus had curves that were hidden by the thin piece of fabric. Certainly Magnus’s hips and thighs were larger than Yosef expected. He forced himself to keep his eyes level with Magnus’s. It wasn’t too hard. Those wide, wonderful emeralds were so beautiful they would make angels cry. Perhaps Magnus was an angel. That would explain many things.

The Flagellant gazed at the chains around Magnus’s body and frowned. They were too in the way. They would have to go. “Your chains.” Yosef rumbled, as if that were enough for Magnus to understand.

“P-pardon?”

“Your chains need to come off. Now.” 

After a long moment of deliberation, and after Yosef released Magnus’s hands from their own bindings, Magnus reached his shaky, calloused hands into his pockets and pulled out a small, rusted key. He fit it into the lock on the chain and twisted, and all at once the chains clattered to the floor.

“Thank you. Now… there’s one more thing before we can begin.”

Magnus seemed to be getting impatient. “W-what now?” They whined.

Before any more could be said, the Flagellant spun the so-called Abomination around and pressed his lips against theirs. After a moment of shock, Magnus’s hands reached up to grab Yosef’s cheeks and he kissed back sweetly. For a wonderful moment, Yosef felt his heart leap in his chest and his soul leave his body. He was doing what he had wanted to all of these months. Magnus was kissing him back and tugging at his hood now, pulling it down so he could see and touch the Flagellant’s face.

Yosef was rather unremarkable in his own opinion though he had been told he was handsome before. Dark brown hair kept in a neat ponytail as well as a full beard and a chiseled face. Brown eyes. A dark complexion. Nothing worth noting in Yosef’s opinion, but Magnus seemed to take in every detail and his cheeks only got redder. In between kisses, Magnus whispered about how he had always wondered what was under the hood. This surprised the Flagellant greatly, though he said nothing. His lips were otherwise busy.

After they had spent enough time kissing in a sacred place, Yosef finally pulled back. Magnus whined and pressed his forehead against Yosef’s. “W-why’d you stop?” He asked, panting.

Yosef hummed. “Because I think I know a better place for us to continue.”

And when Yosef met Magnus’s eyes, he saw that they were filled with wide-eyed wonder.


End file.
